


Wet Dog and Darling

by AKAuthor



Series: Darling [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), SPECTRE (2015), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cat!Q, Fluff, I gave everyone tails bc they deserve them, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, part animal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5823097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAuthor/pseuds/AKAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Soulmate AU. You'll know when you meet them, just by scent. A cat meets the wolf's jaws in an art gallery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet Dog and Darling

**Author's Note:**

> I asked, you said yes, so here is the first of a soulmate series featuring 00Q!

MI-6 was an organization with one of the highest rates of single soulmates in the world. It ranked with many other internal and external security organisations worldwide. Espionage was not a place for love and family.

There were no policies or rules in place, it was up to the mates in question as to whether they wanted to give love a go, but rarely did they remain in employment of the government if they did. From birth, every person as distinct animal features. They do not run in families, though Q once heard of four generations of bears, very rare indeed. People had wings, or tails, or fluffy ears; some had antennae, or fangs for teeth. And everyone had another half.  
They always said it was like the world stopped and started revolving around the scent of your soulmate, and you’d know immediately when you’ve found them. Q’s parents (Rhodolphus and Verity Ashington), were a badger and springbok respectively. They met at a café in Loughborough and Q’s father actually dropped his cup of coffee (Q didn’t get his love of tea from his side of the family) when he first smelt Verity enter the shop.   
Verity and Rhodolphus were very much in love from the beginning, inseparable and still moon-eyed over each other well into marriage. They had three children, a raccoon boy (Altair), red panda girl (Carrie), and finally, Q. 

Q was the youngest, yet left home first to begin his career and ended up in a large labyrinth under London, head of over fifty odd minions. His immediate superior was M herself, a dominating pair of orange to yellow and black butterflies wings oddly terrifying on the small woman. He swore to himself that he wasn’t going to find his soulmate because his work was far too important. And then he walked into the gallery and nearly collapsed on the floor due to the scent that was making him weak at the knees.   
It was gentle and rich, smooth and inexplicably charming, like coffee and cherries and champagne. Q was sure he could live forever drunk on the scent. In something of a daze, he made his way to the bench, eyes lidded and mouth near slack, sitting down and scrabbling weakly for his lost wits.

James Bond was entranced by the lithe man next to him. Q, as he turned out to be, smelt of argan, and sweet lily, with something similar to Turkish delight curling under the overlying scent of flower and oil. Fearing his old age was getting to him, James went to speak, retain professional grace, but as he went to do so, Q’s arm brushed his, and two large black ears twitched, tufted tips shifting under the air-conditioning.   
James was screwed.   
Taking the envelope and case from Q, and setting them off to his other side, James leaned towards the younger man, and softly nosed at his neck, tracing down to his collarbone, huffing in pleasure. Q made a nearly imperceptible rumble in his chest, so low James could only just catch the tendrils of it vibrating through the air and into his cheek. A short nip on Q’s collarbone confirms it.

MI-6 gained another couple. 

Days and nights later, James is sprawled on Q’s couch, owner of said couch languidly stretched over him, purring loudly as James trailed fingers over pale expanses of skin and down a fluffy, inky tail at least a meter long. Q is rubbing his jaw over Bond’s chest, being sure to scent his soulmate well, so that Rebecca in HR stops eyeing him up. Whuffing, James happily pulls Q up his chest and cradles his head until their lips are flush and Q’s purr is stuttering, tail curling to brush shoulders. James’ own tail, shorter and fluffier, is bent off the side of the couch, thumping against the base as it moved freely with none of the perfect control typically employed.   
Q sat back, smiled toothily at his soulmate, a happy rush of affection burning through his chest, and ran a hand through James’ short hair, sure to smooth over the icy white ears of an Arctic wolf. 

A household with a feline and canine type is rarely a dull one. Siblings with respective traits are notorious for arguments and scraps, yet, James and Q live in adrenaline fuelled bliss, attentive, affectionate, and so in tune with each other that long-time friends continually find it weird, even after James retired from Double Oh status and instead took up an instructor position. 

“You smell like wet dog,” Q huffed into his pillow as James came out of their en suite toweling his hair roughly, minding the ears. James barked out a laugh, tossing the towel away and throwing himself into bed next to his soulmate, who immediately curled close, head resting over James’ heart. Two tails, one start white and short, the other jet black with a white dipped tip flicked happily, as Q began purring. 

“Of course I do, darling,” James happily rumbled back, clutching Q closer as their heartbeats synced and their eyes closed.


End file.
